


Back Room

by EntreNous



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-28
Updated: 2006-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-08 04:29:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander.  Right.  That’s the kid's name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back Room

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the summer before s4, BtVS (that’s right, this is fic of the Xander-in-Oxnard canon!stripping for summer money variety!), but other than that pretty much plot-free. So Xander's seventeen-ish here.

Lindsey takes a long pull on the beer and spreads his legs a little wider. “That’s it,” he says in a low voice. He sets the beer down on the dressing table and rolls his hips up. 

The head between his legs bobs up and down again, and Lindsey combs through the dark hair with his fingers before using it to tip the boy’s head slightly back and to the side. Always better when he can see whose mouth is on his dick, particularly when it’s cherry red-lipped and kiss-swollen like this one.

The boy moans around him, and it’s not hard to tell that he likes Lindsey posing and directing him. When Lindsey thrusts just a little harder, making the chair bump forward with a scrape of its legs, the boy makes a pleading sound and grips Lindsey’s denim-clad legs tight. Not like he’s gagging or telling him to slow down. Nah, he wants more. 

“You do that so nice,” Lindsey says gruffly. He cups the boy’s jaw, and grins when brown eyes flutter-closed at his touch. 

The door starts to open, and Lindsey calls out, “Fuck off. We’re in here.”

“Damn it, sorry,” the man blurts out through the crack in the door. The door closes. Silence. 

The boy tenses for a moment, but Lindsey croons wordlessly and strokes that full lower lip with his thumb. That’s enough to send the kid back down Lindsey’s cock with a little pleased-sounding sigh. 

But then it seems the guy who wants inside didn’t get gone like he should have. “Listen, are you going to be long?” comes through the closed door. “I’m only asking because I have to get changed for my act, and--”

“Fuck. Off!” Lindsey snarls, and the man shuts up. Footsteps sound and fade away. 

“I . . .” the kid starts to pull away, sitting back on his heels and training those big eyes on Lindsey.

“Hey, now, none of that,” Lindsey whispers. “We’re having ourselves a good time here, right?”

The nod he gets back is jerky. Those wide dark eyes were already re-focused on his prick, lanky form twitching to lean forward for another go. Lindsey’s half-smile in answer apparently releases him, and he’s swirling his tongue around once, twice before he slides the head past his lips. It’s sweet, the dive back down, especially with the way the kid’s acting like the thought of having a hard-on in his mouth is galloping past want straight on to need. 

“You like that, don’t you? Made for it, having cock in that mouth of yours.” 

The whimper Lindsey hears in reply falls on the upper end of the yes scale -- somewhere up near “oh god, please.”

“Yeah, baby,” Lindsey breathes. “Can’t remember when I’ve had it done as good as this.” The kid’s breaths start to hitch, and Lindsey fucks forward harder. “That’s right, baby. Now look up at me.” Brown eyes diligently flick to his face, eyelashes flutter, and Lindsey groans and shoots into the willing mouth.

None of what’s happened before can be new to the kid, but the quick choke lets Lindsey know this part is. But the kid swallows gamely, and Lindsey gets past the thought, rides out the waves into the soft wet. 

After a minute or two the boy pulls off and clears his throat. “Listen, maybe we should get out of here.”

Lindsey laughs and massages the kid’s jaw. He’ll tug him forward in just a second, pull him on his lap and fit him in even though he’s taller so that he can take care of him. “Worried about your pal? He can borrow someone else’s shorty-shorts. Not like he’s going to be wearing them long up on that stage.”

“No, I meant . . .” Fuck it if after all that the boy doesn’t look sugar-sweet, with crimson burning on his cheeks, licking lips wet from his saliva and Lindsey’s come. “I meant, we could go somewhere else, to . . . you know . . . keep doing . . . stuff.”

“Stuff, huh?” Lindsey asks with a wide grin. “I like the way you think.”

A sound of a sharp knock against the door makes the boy jump and Lindsey roll his eyes. “Are you a moron?” he asks loudly, but there’s no malice in his words. Can’t be, not when this is turning out to be the start of the night instead of the end of it.

“Xander, I mean it!" comes from the hallway. "Don’t make me call Al over here. I have to get into costume.”

Xander. Right. That’s the name. 

“So, Xander,” Lindsey drawls. “Got my truck around back. You have someplace we can go?”

The kid can’t scramble to his feet fast enough.


End file.
